


All the love that I have left

by get_ghosty



Category: Versailles (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, I'm sorry this is just what came to my head when I was watching season three, M/M, OOC, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:15:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26618041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/get_ghosty/pseuds/get_ghosty
Summary: There can be no life without love. He had been told, that no one who ever knew him could love him. He knew that now, to be right.
Relationships: Chevalier de Lorraine/Philippe d'Orléans | Monsieur (Versailles 2015)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21





	All the love that I have left

The word pass through his lips so terribly, sharp and rough, as though they emerged from his throat, and tore it up, “if you don’t love me, no one does.”

He remembered when he had said it the first time. It was to Philippe that these words were sent, and he remembered how much they hurt to say. 

Because he knew it was true.

And now, he really was, finally, truly, alone.

He gets down onto his knees, the hard handle of the thing in his hand becoming so much more obvious against his skin, feeling so hot, as though it were burning his very flesh.

It was loaded.

He had attempted this once before. But now, no one would try to stop him, because now, no one would care.

He closed his eyes, and he filled his thoughts. He didn’t want to think about what he was doing.

He thought of the widow. He thought of how right Philippe had been. She would never marry him, because she knows him.

That was it, wasn’t it.

No one who knew him could love him for very long, if they ever even started in the first place.

Not even he could love himself anymore. He hadn’t in a long time.

He whispered, as he cocked the gun and put it up to the side of his head, his final words, “I have a vision, Philippe, that you will find someone to love. He’ll be sent to you, and you’ll feel as wonderful as I used to feel with you.”

He began to cry. He could feel the tears as they travelled over his face. 

He hadn’t wanted to cry. He’d done more than his fair share of it. So pathetic that even when he was about to die, he’d cry about the same thing he’d cried about over and over again in life.

He couldn’t help but wonder if anyone would cry over him.

He spoke, one last time, “I hope it comes true. You deserve it, Philippe,” he paused, his voice trembled, his throat was so tight, it hurt to say anything, yet he continued, “you deserve it.”

The gun clattered to the ground, and suddenly, there was no longer Chevalier de Lorraine.

The sound of the gun was loud, and yet, no one seemed to pay it any mind.

It wasn’t until two mornings later, when the Princess Palatine, who was beginning to worry after not having seen him for a time, came looking for him in his room.

How terrible it was! To see her cry. She left then. She did not tell the guards or anyone who she probably should have told, instead, she came straight to the man whose name passed over the dead man’s lips before he died.

She came into the room. She called out for him.

“Philippe?”

“Busy,” he said.

“Philippe.”

“I said I’m busy!”

Finally, she stepped out in front of the desk where he was sat, and he looked up to her, and his face softened when he saw the tears which flowed from her red face.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“The Chevalier.”

He looked away from her, somewhere off to the side, and his eyes hardened in focus.

“What about him?”

“He’s dead.”

He shot up out of his chair, and his eyes turned immediately to her.

“Take me to him. Where is he? In his rooms?”

She nods, and Philippe storms out of the room.

And there it was.

His body on the floor, blood all over, dried, his gun carelessly dropped near him on the ground.

In that moment, Philippe felt the same fear that he had when the Chevalier had tried to shoot himself in his rooms.

Only, this was different. So, so much worse.

This was not fear.

With fear there comes an uncertainty.

This was certain. This was final.

The Chevalier was dead.

But no, no, this couldn’t be! He must have been murdered! No doubt he had had enemies!

Philippe couldn’t stomach it. He had to sit down.

He fell so easily onto the bed, the Chevalier’s bed.

Only, there was something on the pillow, beneath his head.

He pulled it out.

A paper. A note.

He unfolded it.

He began to mumble to himself what it said, and though he did not know, it mirrored the last words of his former lover so closely.

“I don’t know when you’ll find me. I don’t expect anyone to come looking for me. But, I have in my heart these last few messages to relay, and I shall, regardless of if they are ever heard or not.

“To my cousin, the sweet Sophie, I’ll miss you. You always were so sweet. Perhaps, I’ll get to meet your mother on the other side. There must be another side. There has to be. It can’t simply… end, can it? I always loved you, Sophie.

“To my friend, Liselotte, I say that I am so grateful to have been with you in friendship, so honored that you would have me. No one else ever would. Sweet chance and fortune, to the end of your days. There is still chance for you. Not I.

“I wish to say more, but I can’t really, can I. So few people ever really called themself my friend. Why would they? He was right. He was right.

“My mother always told me that there can be no life if there is not love to hold it. That there can be no person without the affection of another. And I suppose I never realized, until just now, that she was right.

“Philippe. Do you remember what I had said to you? If you don’t love me, no one does. You were the only one I’d ever have said something like that to. I’d like to make a joke about you feeling special, but I know it would be in poor taste. 

“You don’t love me. You said it yourself. That’s fine. If there is no love, life is allowed to end. That is what I am doing. Ending. No one ever quite wanted me around anyway.

“I have a vision, Philippe, that one day soon you shall find someone to love as you had never been able to do with me. I hope you do find your bliss. I hope nothing more. I prayed for you, before I went. You know I’m not very prone to it, but, it felt the only thing to do.

“You need not cry for me. I doubt you would have anyway. Continue to live without me as you always have. You’re free.

“With all my sincere wishes, and all the love that I have left, Philippe, Chevalier de Lorraine.”

Philippe grasped the paper tightly, and he held it close to his chest, as he turned over on his side, and silently began to sob.

Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to be by the Chevalier’s side, to hold and be held, with that same love, that same passion, one last time.

Lord, he had been a fool.


End file.
